


Biblioteca

by whimsicalmuse



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-23
Updated: 2004-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-07 20:17:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7728364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicalmuse/pseuds/whimsicalmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If William was a road sign for straight and narrow, then Dominic was ?dangerous curves ahead?.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Biblioteca

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Shirasade: this story was originally archived at the [Monaboyd.net Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Monaboyd.net), which was closed in September 2014 due to software issues and a lack of new submissions for several years. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in October 2014. I e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Monaboyd.net Archive collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Monaboyd_Archive/profile).
> 
> \---
> 
> A/N: Response to domhobbitzes request for library smut. Inspiration most certainly taken from the lovely series lotruniversity though this does not fall into that universe, as I have no connection other than that of a rabid fan. At best this is a humble shadow of their hotness, but in my mind, when Bill is in a suit, he is forever Professor Billy. There is a bit of a surprise in the end, and no, the surprise is not kiltsandlollies *grins* You will understand why when you read.

*  
If there was anything that could piss William Boyd off, it was tardiness. He would not tolerate it. Since he was a lad, he had been bred and disciplined to be on time, and if late, he was punished swiftly and fiercely, then sent off with the command to be more obedient next time. Bill grew up, always keen on staying between the lines, always on time, and on task - but then he met Dominic. If William was a road sign for straight and narrow, then Dominic was “dangerous curves ahead”, and one would do well to heed the glaring yellow, and read the bold black letters, before dealing with him. Dom was the sort who veered off to the left suddenly and left you grappling for your steering wheel, lest you take a dive off a cliff. He lived fully and by the seat of his pants, and to Bill’s dismay, he was always late.

That’s not to say Billy would be put off by this. On the contrary, Dominic’s serial tardiness was a challenge to Bill, like hard stone that was glaring to be taken down, and Bill was eager and ready for it. He was eager and ready to break Dominic, discipline him for his nasty habit.

A gigantic white clock clicked against a wall, that could have once been white, but after years of mold, dank air, and sweltering sunshine, had faded to a pasty yellow and cracked like an Italian relief. The silver band around the clock shone in the dim light of the room and Bill focused on the lonely ticking that accompanied the gentle wash of rain that fell down on the murky windows. Dark jade eyes peered at the stark black numbers and he suppressed a growl. It was five pm and the building would be closing soon.

A new level of irritation bubbled in his chest, so much so that he could almost feel it pounding against his blood red tie, and he ran trembling hands over the silk, both to soothe his nerves and adjust the garment. He hated to have anything out of place. When he had been reduced to balling his fists at his sides, with a set jaw and a creased brow, he heard the tell tale footsteps, echoing down the hall. Dominic was here.

The young man swaggered in, wasp yellow backpack slung over a bony shoulder and his feet scuffed the tan linoleum floor from the sandals he wore, though it was pouring outside. It would seem Mr. Monaghan had little concern for a spring shower, if the white shirt that clung to him and the water washed jeans were any clue.

“You’re late.” Bill hissed. “And wet.”

Dom tossed his backpack onto the table, the thud of books and nylon connecting with the tabletop echoing throughout the silent room.

“Did you miss me?” He replied cheekily, as he stepped close to the man, dripping water on his leather dress shoes while he ruffled his hair fondly.

Bill narrowed his eyes, and in a blink fingers were wrapped around smooth wrists.

“Tardiness is always disciplined Dominic, we’ve discussed this before.”

The younger man was unfazed, shrugging brashly, before pressing his lean frame against the charcoal gray suit.

“That’s rather the point isn’t it Billy? What would you do if I behaved?”

A rebuttal rose in his throat but lost its place when a warm tongue trailed along the curve of Billy’s jaw, followed by uneven teeth. Dominic never wasted much time with formalities, perhaps compliment his propensity for tardiness, so Bill was not surprised to feel the familiar press coming from Dom’s jeans as he leaned against the soft wool. Dom was a series of movement, even restrained by Bill’s firm grasp, simultaneously guiding their bodies back to the table, until Bill felt the press of wood against his back. As Billy’s eyes skittered to the closed door and the small frosted glass window, Dom’s hands grappled for the solid buckle at Billy’s waist. Dom’s eyes followed Bills and he flipped the Scot around, switching tables so that Bill’s back was facing the door. Warning bells went off in Billy’s mind but his focus shifted with the play of Dom’s hands on his skin. As the clock ticked on softly, now drowned out from the rush of air as both men breathed, Billy worked to contain Dom’s enthusiasm, particularly when the young man bowed his head and sunk teeth into the fleshy patch of skin just above his nipple.

“Marks,” he hissed, while his hands fluttered down to thin strands of blonde, his mind half-musing over the play of cloud light on gold. When Dom’s impatience peaked, he wrapped long fingers around Bill’s waist, settled in the well of his hips, and with a grunt, hefted the shorter man up onto the edge of the table. His pants had long been discarded and Bill flinched slightly at the shock of cool wood on his arse but the worry didn’t stay long, as it was replaced with a new and more pressing matter, as Dom lapped the underside of his cock. He inhaled, but made no noise, determined maintain what degree of decency can be had when you meet your subordinate in a public library for a tryst, though he could not help but watch the play of Dom’s mouth in his lap. His shirttails were settled on his lean thighs neatly, and the red of his tie stood out against crisp white, almost painfully. The image of Dom’s head, bobbing up and down, framed against red, white, and pale skin, grew soft around the edges, until all Bill could see was the whirl of gold, red and white, and all he could hear was the squelch of lips and teeth on solid weight. Dom was no innocent when it came to the merits of a spectacular blow job and today was no different, so Billy was not surprised when he felt the familiar wave of heat pour from his belly, coiling to ice and fire in his back and thighs. He allowed a low groan to escape this throat, as he tipped his head back, parting his lips, and when Dom paused to shush him, he wasn’t overly concerned. He was fairly certain they were alone, as few people bothered to come be among moldy newspaper and a scant few terminals to view microfiche.

But what he didn’t know was that he was being watched.

She had only intended to come to offer a polite but firm warning that the library would be closed in thirty minutes. She had seen the damp bloke saunter in not long before, with a swagger and lust in his eyes, and she was in no mood to untangle young lovers from an aisle, and send them on their way. As she peeped into rooms, lips set in a frown; she came up short three times, as she did not see her student. She found them on the fourth try, and Dom had seen her. He saw the glint of a short red head, as she peeped through the blurry glass, and stifled a gasp, though she didn’t know he knew. He could imagine small milky hands, as they fluttered to her throat, fingering the pearls that rested there, cool against warm skin. As he inhaled the familiar musk and tang of damp curls, he could almost smell the lure of expensive cologne, and wax from the scarlet stain on her lips. When he moaned against Billy’s skin, she clawed at her skirt, her palms flat against the faint scrunch of the silk black garter confined under lined wool and lining. Dom didn’t have to see her to know she would have peaches and cream calves, which would be prettily wrapped in black stockings, and in his mind, his finger ran up the dark seam that stretched from her slim ankles to her toned thighs. His eyes shone cold gray, as they pierced the frames of dark rimmed glasses, until they pieced blue, and when her pupils dilated in surprised, he smiled inwardly. His mind mused on if she would enjoy his hands on the seam of her panties, or perhaps on the pins of her tight ponytail, but then Bills tense belly flexed, reminding him of the task at hand and more importantly, of his favorite sport, and he redoubled his pace, until Billy was scattered and alive in his mouth.

Moments later Bill sat up, greedy, and not unaware that something had captured Dom’s attention and his eyes narrowed at the small space of glass. Dom feigned innocence, knowing their rendezvous would be abruptly ended if Billy suspected an audience, and to his surprise the ruse worked and Billy focused on the squirming body before him.

“Now, Monaghan, about your punishment…” He trailed, as he flipped the lithe man on his back. His voice was a controlled strike of lightening in against the patter of rain on the window, and as Dom fell out of focus, Bill fell in, his jade eyes fixed on the glass and the cool gray door. His eyes were fixed on the play of light on a multicolored strand of beads that were attached to dark frame glasses. His eyes were fixed on their audience, as she scurried away.


End file.
